Gemotions

The scent of wood shavings and sawdust hung in the air, a potent perfume. He was on his knees, meticulously screwing the final panel in place. The angle of his back, the way his jeans clung to his form... it was… captivating. I watched, my arms crossed, feeling an unexpected thrum in my temples. The world had narrowed, focused on the precise movements of his hands. I wanted to tell him how much I appreciated the work he was doing. I wanted to say something, anything. But my throat felt constricted.